


ready for the worst

by peachsneakers



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, Cuddling, Dukexiety - Freeform, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Sympathetic Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders, vent fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-04
Updated: 2020-06-04
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:34:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24535471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peachsneakers/pseuds/peachsneakers
Summary: Virgil's having a bad day.
Relationships: Anxiety | Virgil Sanders/Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders
Comments: 6
Kudos: 205





	ready for the worst

**Author's Note:**

> lyrics are from au ra "panic room"

_The silence is so loud_   
_The lights spark and flicker_   
_With monsters much bigger_   
_Than I can control now_

Virgil huddles in the middle of his bed, hoodie drowning him, headphones in and blaring My Chemical Romance like they can save him from the shadows infiltrating his room. Panic flares at the edges of his mind, tickling his thoughts like the worst lover's caress. His stomach roils, his skin prickly and hot all over. He doesn't know _what's_ wrong, he just knows something _is_.

The door bangs open, provoking a high-pitched yelp from Virgil and an immediate transition to defensive crouch, hands in front of him in loosely clenched fists.

"Whoa, babe, it's just me," Remus says, walking through the doorway on his hands. He rights himself with a grunt of effort, dusting off his ruffled outfit. "Were you expecting someone else?"

"No," Virgil says. His voice is shaking and he hates it. "I just-" He swallows hard. "I don't know," he settles on. "I'm just...anxious."

"Why?" Remus asks, tilting his head to one side with an ominous creak. Before Virgil can answer, he continues. "Oh wait, duh, you're Anxiety! Of course you're anxious!" For a second, Remus's shadow stretches impossibly long behind him, empty eye sockets glowing green.

"Maybe it's not a good time for you to be in here," Virgil croaks, fidgeting with his sleeves. His headphones, forgotten, still blare music haphazardly around his neck. 

"I think right now is exactly the good time for me to be in here," Remus counters. "You don't look so hot, storm cloud. You look like a tornado's about to come and sweep you up and you'll never get back to Kansas!"

"Remus, I've never been to Kansas in my life," Virgil points out. Remus shrugs.

"Minor issue," he says, flapping one hand in the air. "I can fix that."

"What? How would- never mind," Virgil says. "It doesn't matter. It's just not a good time, okay?"

"I don't believe you one bit, you know," Remus says, conjuring up a tentacle-covered chair and sitting in it with a disturbing squelch. Virgil pales as he watches the shadows lengthen, cloaking Remus's shoes in darkness. Small fears swell into larger ones, and Virgil knows that he has no control. Not right now.

"Remus-" Virgil ekes out. His throat hurts.

"You aren't alone," Remus tells him. "If you want, I can conjure a box of dead rats. Or alive rats. Alive rats would probably be better. Then you _definitely_ wouldn't be alone. Would you like that?"

"The alive rats, yes," Virgil says. "Not uh- not the dead ones. But I'm fine, Remus, I don't need any-"

"You aren't fine," Remus interrupts, challenging. His eyes capture Virgil's, his face more serious than Virgil's ever seen it. "I don't know what's wrong but I don't need to know to comfort you." He stands up, plopping down on the bed next to Virgil and gently plucking his headphones off his neck, turning off his music.

"Cuddle time?" Remus asks. Weakly, Virgil nods.

"Just for a little bit," Virgil says, as Remus pulls him into his lap. Virgil rests his head against his boyfriend's chest, trying to ignore the scratchiness of some of the ruffles and the smooth surface of the baby teeth.

"Sure," Remus says. Virgil yawns. 

"I mean it," Virgil says. As he watches, the shadows in his room sputter, shrinking away, bit by bit.

"I was having an anxiety attack," he adds. "Because Thomas was stressed out earlier. I think that's why. My room was acting...weird."

"I love weird!" Remus exclaims, his arms tightening around Virgil. "I can _do_ weird, believe me."

"I do," Virgil says. He's surprised to realize it's the truth.


End file.
